


Write Your Questions On My Skin

by mysticanni



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Breakfast, Diners, Graduation, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Interviews, Love, M/M, Moving In Together, Strippers & Strip Clubs, feather boa, fried eggs, small rented rooms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-18 05:15:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28986951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysticanni/pseuds/mysticanni
Summary: Miami moves in with Roger and they both move on from working in a club.
Relationships: Jim Beach/Roger Taylor
Comments: 10
Kudos: 11





	Write Your Questions On My Skin

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Fan Dance" by Sam Phillips.

Behind the scenes everything had seen better days. Miami had been flicking through a magazine in the waiting room at the dentist and had seen an article about a decorating style called ‘shabby chic’ but behind the scenes at the club everything was shabby with no chic. 

The walls had once been covered with textured paper with a diamond pattern which appeared to have been a rich purple colour with golden highlights when new but was now faded and had been torn away in places. There were water stains from long ago torrents of water when pipes had burst which had streaked the surface of the wallpaper. Miami sometimes tried to imagine what it would have looked like when it had just been put up. He tried to see past the faded grandeur and see the opulence.

Worn linoleum – dark grey in colour – covered the floor. Where it had curled up at the corners Miami caught tantalising glimpses of patterned tiles. Sometimes he longed to rip up the linoleum and reveal the wonders beneath. But that would lead to unemployment. 

The club had once been a theatre. Even in those days this area would have been behind the scenes and Miami wondered at the richness of the decor the original owners had bestowed upon the workers in the wings. It spoke of a desire to do things properly – a conviction that everyone deserved beauty and luxury. 

The decor had once been beautiful and even in decline it still held a certain appeal. These back stage areas may have fallen on hard times but they had retained their innate good looks. Roger flitted through Miami’s mind – he may be impoverished but he had an abundance of beauty.

Now, the management saw no reason to do up the areas of the building the paying public never saw so the decline was likely to continue. Part of Miami wished he had the money to buy the building and restore it to its former glory. But what would he do with a Victorian theatre that had been turned into a strip club? And that was supposing he had the money to buy it – which he didn’t. 

He deftly applied make-up to his face and told himself to focus on earning enough to pay the rent on the glorified cupboard his landlord grandiosely referred to as a ‘studio flat’ and stop day-dreaming about owning a theatre. He looked up as the dressing-room door opened and one of the other dancers stuck their head around it to say, “Five minutes,” before withdrawing again. 

*

He met Roger twirling off the stage shedding feathers from his head-dress like a gaudy fallen angel. Roger blew him a kiss. “Move in with me,” he said, as Miami hurried towards the stage, “Give up your match-box and move into my shoe-box, you know you want to!”

Miami did want to. He wasn’t quite sure what was stopping him. He waggled his fingers at Roger in a sort-of wave and took a deep breath before he spun onto the stage, blinded by the spot-light and deafened by the music. 

The customers were shadowy blurs beyond the edge of the stage. There would be floor dancers down there too. His fingers curled around the pole and he began to writhe for the delight of the audience. A particularly loud man shouted, “Get your kit off!” and he plastered a smile on his face and just managed not to roll his eyes. He couldn’t see them clearly but it was always surprising what they picked up on. He’d learnt that the hard way, suffering through a tedious lecture and – worse – docked pay.

*

They always stopped at the twenty-four hour cafe after work for the served all day and all night English breakfast with mugs of strong tea. Miami always ordered fried eggs, bacon, sausage, mushrooms, tomato and baked beans for breakfast. Roger had scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, tomato and toast. 

Crystal set their plates in front of them and grunted when Roger thanked him. Crystal was often on this shift and Miami wondered if he was consigned to the very early morning/very late night shift because he was uncommunicative or if he was uncommunicative because he worked the very early morning/very late night shift.

Roger said it was very early morning. Miami thought it might be very late night.

Sometimes he wondered if they were really suited to each other. When he had fretted about this Roger had laughed and said, “You suit me perfectly.”

He loved Roger. He loved Roger so much he sometimes thought his heart might explode with the pressure of it. He felt as if he had captured a ray of sunshine.

“Am I holding you back?” he asked. 

“From what?” Roger puzzled, dipping his sausage in one of Miami’s fried eggs.

From lighting up the sky – lighting up the whole world - from creating world peace and encouraging everyone to live in harmony just by existing. “You could be with anyone.”

Roger looked astonished. “I’m pretty sure no one else would put up with me,” he laughed. 

“You could just have ordered fried eggs,” Miami noted. 

“I only want a little bit of the yolk,” Roger explained. He smiled at Miami – that smile that was like the sun appearing from behind a cloud. 

Miami snorted. “I would have liked some of the yolk myself,” he muttered.

*

They slept, entwined, in Roger’s bed. Roger’s landlord described the accommodation he was providing as a ‘split-level studio flat’. It had marginally more space than Miami’s place, mainly because the bed took up almost all of the space on the ‘mezzanine’ which they had to climb a ladder to. Roger referred to it as the ‘bed shelf’. “Move in with me,” Roger murmured drowsily. 

A pink feather from the feather boa Miami had kept around his neck when he left work was stuck to Roger’s cheek. “Okay,” he agreed, without really thinking about it. He thought that perhaps he over-thought things. He traced ‘I love you’ on Roger’s stomach.

Roger smiled at him, “Are you writing on me?” he asked, adding, “About time.”

*

“We need more shelves,” Roger noted, as he set down yet another box of law books in the split level studio. 

Miami suspected Roger was slightly dismayed by the number of books but he hid it well. “I’m surprisingly good at putting shelves up,” he told Roger. 

“I knew there was a reason I loved you,” Roger said with a grin. His grin faded. “I won’t distract you from studying will I?”

Honestly, yes. Roger would definitely distract Miami from studying. Roger was so huggable and kissable and fuckable and he would now be much more frequently within reach. “Yes,” Miami confessed, “You will distract me. I will constantly be trying to get you back into bed.”

Roger grinned. “I’m not averse to that. I don’t want your studies to suffer though.”

“It’ll be a struggle, but I’ll do my best,” Miami assured Roger, pulling him close for a kiss.

It sometimes troubled him that he had a way out. He was on a path that led away from the club and towards good wages. 

Roger danced at the club because he needed the money. Miami needed the money too, of course, but he had partly taken that particular job as an act of rebellion – as a ‘fuck you’ to his uptight parents. He had taken the job to shock following a row with his father. He felt ashamed of that now.

“Are you okay?” Roger asked now, sounding worried.

“Yeah,” he nodded, “I’m fine.”

*

Roger halted, looking at the notice on the door of the cafe. Staff wanted. Apply within. “Are you going to apply?” Miami asked. 

“I would need to know about the pay,” Roger said, “and how many hours I’d get. Do you think men would still grab my arse when I brought their breakfast to them?”

“Probably,” Miami sighed, “but perhaps not as much?”

It was Brian who was behind the counter when they went in. Roger rather shyly asked about the job. Brian beamed at him. “I’ll get you an application form,” he offered.

The pay was less than they earned at the club but not drastically so. “And we’re sharing the rent now,” Miami pointed out.

“I’ll think about it,” Roger murmured.

*

Roger would still be able to pay the rent without a contribution from Miami if he took the job at the cafe. He’d have a bit less disposable income than he did now though. Part of him wanted to just go for it – safe in the knowledge that Miami was there and was contributing financially. Part of him was terrified that Miami would come to his senses and leave. 

He had been moving from one friend’s sofa to another before he had started working at the club – effectively homeless. He couldn’t go back to that.

Miami seemed slightly bemused by his reluctance to apply for the job at the cafe. “Even if you’re not sure about it I think you should still apply,” he said, “If you’re offered the job you don’t have to take it if it’s not for you.”

That had seemed sensible to Roger so he had completed the application form and handed it in to Crystal who had raised one eyebrow and made one of his non-verbal noises of acknowledgement. The next day Crystal had handed him an envelope which contained a letter inviting Roger for an interview in two days time.

Roger had fretted over what to wear. He didn’t have many clothes and they were all very pre-loved. 

“Your dark jeans, that white shirt and you can borrow my black jacket,” Miami suggested.

Normal people probably had interview suits, Roger reflected. Normal people probably wanted to work in the cafe because, like Brian, for instance, they were students and needed the money not because they fancied a change from working in a strip club.

The bell above the cafe door jangled as Roger entered as it always did except this time Roger’s nerves were also jangling. He told himself it didn’t matter if he didn’t get the job – he could still work in the club. He had a sudden image of him shuffling onto the stage leaning heavily on a walking stick and launching into a jerky arthritic pole-dance and giggled.

Brian was behind the counter. He smiled at Roger. “Come through to the office,” he invited him.

Roger was surprised to find Crystal was conducting his interview. Brian showed him into a small office with a large desk crammed into it. Crystal was sitting behind the desk looking bleary-eyed. He had a mug of coffee in front of him. The desk was bare apart from this. The only other furniture in the room was a chair on the other side of the desk, which Crystal waved Roger into, and a metal filing cabinet with a sad looking plant on top of it. “I think your plant needs a drink,” Roger said and then wondered if that was how you were meant to start an interview.

“I know how it feels,” Crystal muttered. They grinned at each other. Roger slid onto the chair across the desk from Crystal. “Well,” Crystal cleared his throat, “I’m pretty certain you would show up for a late shift. You know the menu. You know the other staff. Well, apart from the kitchen staff but you’ll like them, I think. And you don’t seem a total idiot. So the job’s yours if you want it.”

“Thanks,” Roger said, a little unsurely. “Um...”

“You don’t have to decide right away,” Crystal told him. “Give me an answer by the end of the week, okay?”

“Okay,” Roger breathed a sigh of relief, “Thank you.”

Crystal pulled open one of the desk drawers and rummaged in it. He produced an envelope. “Terms and conditions are in there and there’s a form to sign if you decide to join us.”

*

Miami was tracing ‘you’re gorgeous’ on Roger’s back with his finger. “I don’t understand why you’re so reluctant,” he puzzled, “You want to leave the club, don’t you?”

“The club gives me security,” Roger mumbled into the pillow. 

“The cafe’s always busy,” Miami pointed out, “Surprisingly so at the times we frequent it. I think it’ll be a fairly secure job.”

Roger shook his head, his golden hair rippling. Miami twirled a strand of it around his finger. Roger was real. Roger was here in bed with him. Roger seemed elusive. “Not...It’s not the job, so much as the money...I could afford to live on my own with the job at the club. It would be more of a struggle to do that with the cafe job.”

“Are you kicking me out?” Miami tried to keep his voice light but wasn’t sure he was succeeding. His stomach twisted.

“No,” Roger replied immediately, “Never. I love having you here. I just...If you left...I can’t go back to struggling...”

“I’m not going to leave,” Miami assured him. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Roger rolled onto his side so he was facing Miami. “You’re gonna become a lawyer and you’ll meet a sexy suited solicitor and you’ll realise you’re wasting your time with a fool like me.”

“I doubt I will ever meet anyone as sexy as you,” he told Roger, “No matter what their profession is or what they are wearing. You’re not a fool. And every millisecond I spend with you is time well spent.”

“You might not think that forever,” Roger mumbled.

“I think that’s unlikely,” Miami said, “You might not always want to be with me. You might realise how exceptionally dull I am and want to move on.”

Roger laughed, “You’re not dull!”

Miami kissed Roger’s nose. “You just haven’t realised yet.” He pressed his lips to Roger’s. “You’re a survivor,” he said softly, “I’ll be right here by your side but even if I wasn’t you would be just fine.”

*

For the sake of moving forwards Roger decided to take the job at the cafe. It felt like a positive step. And Miami was right – he would manage even if their relationship turned sour. He’d find an even smaller room to rent. He’d cope. He felt sick at the thought of having to do that but he knew it would help him to come to terms with the worst case scenario so he could make a decision.

Crystal actually smiled at him when he accepted the job. “I have to work a week’s notice at my current job,” Roger added, feeling slightly anxious about this.

“That’s fine,” Crystal nodded. “I’m glad you decided to take the job.”

Miami smiled at him across the table. “How do you feel?”

“It’s a bit scary,” Roger admitted, “but I think I’m doing the right thing.” 

*

Miami almost missed his name being called when it was his turn to go up on stage at graduation. He could not recall the last time he had been called by his full name - Henry James Beach. No one called him Henry. Even Jim was rarely used. His heavy graduation robe seemed intent on either strangling him or causing death by over-heating and he was terrified he was going to trip in front of everyone in the hall – in front of Roger. He had never been so relieved to get something over with.

Roger looked cute with Miami’s mortar board perched on top of his head. “Why are they called that?” Roger wondered, “Why not just a cap or a hat? Mortar board sounds like a multi-tasking kitchen implement. Don’t builders use mortar boards?” 

“They are also called an Oxford cap,” Miami told him, “Or just an academic cap.”

“Do they have a flat top so you can balance books on your head?” Roger giggled, flicking the tassel.

“I don’t need to balance books anymore,” Miami said happily. “Well, not in that sense! In a budgeting money sense I do.” He had stopped working at the club just before his final exams so money had been tight. Roger had taken on extra hours at the cafe which had touched Miami more than he cared to admit. However, he had been lucky enough to secure a job in a law firm which started the week after graduation. He hugged Roger fiercely. 

“You’re sure you wouldn’t have preferred to have your parents here?” Roger asked. 

“No,” Miami shook his head. “I’d much rather have you here.” After he had moved in with Roger he had visited his parents to give them his new address and had decided that it was as good a time as any to let them know he was in a relationship with Roger. It had gone better than he expected but his father was still a bit frosty towards him. 

“You’re a lawyer now,” Roger grinned, “I’m dating a lawyer!”

Miami laughed, “Not quite. I need work experience before I officially qualify.”

Roger shrugged, “You’re a lawyer as far as I’m concerned.” He kissed Miami. “How would you like to celebrate?”

*

It was either very early morning or very late at night when they stumbled into the cafe having stayed out until very late or very early celebrating. Their usual table was free despite the fact that it had been months since they had last stumbled in together at this time.

Crystal bestowed a smile on them. “This is like old times. Would you like your usual fry-ups?”

Roger dipped his sausage in Miami’s fried egg. “You could have just ordered your own fried egg,” Miami sighed, “You’re an egg yolk thief.”

Roger grinned. “Lucky for me I have a good lawyer to defend me then isn’t it?”


End file.
